Never Let Me Go
by LiveLaughDreamInspire
Summary: "It's like playing with fire, in the worst kind of way, because there is nothing she wants more than to get burnt." 3x19 continuation scene.


**A/N: Hey, guys! So I'm working on my writing skills and practicing some more descriptive writing. This is a continuation of 3X19 "Heart of Darkness" Yeah I know it's late but you know, whatever.**

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"_And the arms of the ocean are carrying me_  
_And all this devotion was rushing out of me_  
_In the crushes of heaven for a sinner like me_  
_But the arms of the ocean delivered me"_

. . . .

Elena gazes up at the charcoal sky and wonders, not for the first time, about what it would be like to run away from it all. Katherine did it for a century; surely she could do the same. But even she knows that there are some things you just can't run from. And this was one of them.

It doesn't stop her from dreaming, though. She wonders how far she would get, who would drag her back. She'd like to believe that she could escape for years, but she knows it wouldn't last for more than a few hours.

And she laughs, she's laughing so hard that tears form in her eyes. It was the kind of laugh that was bordering hysterics because she never imagined herself as someone so weak. Someone who constantly needed saving, who would never make it out on her own. She'd like to imagine herself tougher than that. But she won't put up the facade.

With a deep breath the laughter and tears die down as she calms herself and turns to leave. Away from the balcony, overlooking a city of people who are probably a lot better off than she is.

They've got what they've came for. Jeremy spoke to Rose, who graciously told them the name of the woman who turned her. Jeremy wants to come back with them, so now the hardest decision she has ever had to make was completely pointless. And she just feels like sleeping and never waking up.

She opens to door to the motel room and glances around. Damon's nowhere to be found. But she tip-toes anyway, crawling into one of the beds and collapsing. It wasn't long before she heard a door open and footsteps. She waits until the footsteps disappear before opening her eyes. And there he is. Sitting in the chair by the window, gazing out. Maybe he too dreams of running away, it was an interesting thought.

Her eyes traveled down and she froze at the unbuttoned shirt, before shaking her head and trying to note his posture. Even after all the time they've spent together, Elena sometimes feels that she doesn't know him at all. Definitely not as much as he knows her. Yet she knows him better than anyone else ever could.

She wishes that she could beat Stefan's head in for making her do this. For pointing out what she was trying so hard to pretend wasn't there. She feels like he tied a string of sausages around her neck and threw her into the lion's den.

As if he could sense her stare he turns towards her. And the warmth that shoots through her is something she rarely feels, isn't used too. It's the kind of warmth that could melt glaciers.

They stay like that for a while, blue melting into brown, before he gets up and moves beside her. Her breath catches in her throat as he does. He reaches for her hand and she lets it out in a shaky breath as his thumb slides across her hand. Almost, impossibly, soothing her. Protecting her from whatever dangers await her outside these four walls.

Sometimes he could be so sweet. And she swears she's the only one in the world that is aware of this. And other times he has her so confused and angry and turned around that she has no idea which way is up and which is down. And she almost doesn't mind.

Doesn't _care_, as long as he flashes her that grin that makes her knees weak, that tells her that everything is going to be okay. And she always believes him. Because he's here with her, and even at arm distance, or on opposite sides of the room, she knows she's safe. That together they could survive anything. And she doesn't doubt that, not for a second.

"Why don't you ever let people see the good in you?" She whispers into the air. Voicing a question that she ponders over a lot at night. She couldn't count how many times he's reminded her that he was not the _good_ brother. That he didn't do _good_, that it wasn't _in him_. So much so, that she starts to question if her definition of _good_, is somehow wrong.

"Because when people see good, they expect good," He answers, just as quietly, like they were worried about disrupting the peace. She honestly didn't expect him to answer her; she didn't think he knew the answer himself. Damon never lies to her, unless if he's lying to himself.

She doesn't respond. So they lay there, in a crappy motel room in Denver, with their problems hundreds of miles away, and it feels like a different world. He feels like a different person, or maybe he's the person he's been all along and she's the one who's different. Either way she hops out of that bed like a bat out of hell.

Ultimately trying to run from her problems, which she knows never works but she tries anyway. Not stopping until she reaches the vending machine back out on the porch. Maybe if she distances herself more she can outrun this feeling inside her. This emotion that's bubbling up inside her, to the point of explosion.

_Why won't it go away? _

No matter what he does, no matter what she does, she can't seem to get away from it. And the sick part is she doesn't want too.

_So then why is she running? _

"Elena?" His voice cuts through her thoughts. Why couldn't he just stay back in the hotel room? Or better yet fall off a cliff so she wouldn't have to deal with all of this. Because what she's feeling shouldn't be happening, this feeling has the power to destroy them both, and everyone around them. It's like playing with fire, in the worst kind of way, because there is nothing she wants more than to get burnt.

And apparently her body came to that realization on its own because before she knew it she was running. Not away, like she's so used to doing, but towards him. She can feel his surprise as she attaches herself to him, capturing his lips with hers. His body stiffens and then he seems to realize what's happening and he relaxes into her.

His hands making their way to her hips as he grounds it against his. There's something turning in the pit of her stomach, like butterflies looking for an escape route, and she decides that she likes the feeling.

She vaguely feels something hard and cold on her back but she thinks nothing of it as his hands skim her body. She's heating up; trails of fire follow his fingers as they glide across her skin. And they devour each other, learning curves and lines. It's like he's heating her from the inside out. Melting her. Turning her into a puddle of sensations. She almost hates him for it.

His mouth leaves hers and travels down her throat. She's making noises that sound like a cross between his name and 'more' but could only be described as begging. She pushes herself almost impossibly closer and she hears him curse into her neck. And she knows she should stop, because if it gets much further than this it could turn disastrous.

She moves her hands to his chest to push him away, but his move to her legs and suddenly they've disappeared from under her. She loses her train of thought as her breath starts coming in short little pants as his tongue traces her collar bone.

_Did it have to feel so good?_

They're dancing on the line of no return and she's hesitating. Debating whether or not it's better to play it safe and stay on one side or jump feet first off the other end.

"Damon," She breathes, the word barely a whisper but she knows he hears it. His head lifts up and he locks eyes with her, the darkened blue reminding her of a storm that she gathers she's in the middle of.

The same emotions were still raging and there's nothing but a tug of war between them. And either way she figures it will still end the same, whether she's paving her way to hell or not. Because she knows she can't keep fighting this. And somehow he must have heard this in her whisper, because they started moving. Back the way they came as a laugh escapes her. Not the same one as earlier but one filled with some kind of happiness.

And she was filled with a sense of satisfaction and joy as the door clicked shut behind them.

. . . .

"_And it's over  
And I'm going under  
But I'm not giving up  
I'm just giving in"_

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**So what do we think? I know it's kind of short and I feel like the last piece I wrote was not one of my bests so I'm hoping to get back into my grove, so to speak. Tell me it's not awful?**

**REVIEW PLEASE**


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